StarFight 1: Battlestar (28 page)

Jacob saw the telltale stream of water and air spewing out from the midbody of the frigate.

In the Wheel formation there was no chance for another ship to get between the frigate and incoming beams. Which it was now receiving from all four wasp ships.

A second star flared.

“Shit!” yelled Richard.

Deep frustration hit Jacob. They had killed a wasp ship and the wasps had killed one of their frigates.

“Fleet captain!” called Sunderland. “We are taking the beams now! What is your command?”

He made the decision he knew had to be made.

“All frigates, withdraw beyond enemy laser range! Go to max acceleration to get away. The rest of us can handle the enemy.”

“Moving out at one percent, five, nine, ten psol,” called Captain Lorenz from the
St. Mihiel
.

“We’re also moving beyond the enemy beams,” called Sunderland from the
Aldertag
.

His mind’s eye filled with images. The destroyer
Philippines Sea
was curving off to one side in pursuit of the wasp ship that was trying to get close to Valhalla. Two frigates were now beyond enemy firing range. With one ship dead and three out of engagement range, that left him five ships against the four of the wasps. His eyes caught the names beside each icon.
Lepanto, Chesapeake, Hampton Roads, Salamis
and
Tsushima Strait
.

“All ships, concentrate your beams on the giant ship! Let’s kill that big mother!”

♦   ♦   ♦

Hunter Seven felt pleasure at the perception image of a Soft Skin flying nest dying in a ball of sky light fire. Now, it was time for his nest to do the vital job of extinguishing Soft Skins from the land of world four. He shared Hunter One’s conviction that world three must be made safe for a future colony of Swarmers. Their lives on Nest had proven that safety lay in killing or chasing off all intruders, all lifeforms that sought to live in the home range of Swarmers. That must now happen here.

“Stinger Servant, are we within flight range for our particle disruption seeds to land on the world below?” he scent cast.

“Not yet,” the Servant replied, lowering his antennae in a show of regret that mixed with pheromones of aggregation as he spoke of his loyalty to Seven.

Frustration filled Seven. A Soft Skin nest even now closed on his nest. It fired red heavy sky light beams that hit near the propulsive part of his nest. Even though his Servant who guided the nest through dark space now moved the nest from side to side, in the classic flight formation of all Swarmers, still, the enemy hit more often than he missed.

“Leader!” scent cast the Servant in charge of propulsive devices. “One propulsive unit is dead! We now move at half our flight speed.”

More frustration filled Seven’s inner gut. His nest had but two propulsive devices to send them winging through cold dark space. Losing one meant a loss of flight ability.

“Stinger Servant! Fire our tail sky bolts at that creature! Bite him to death!”

“Biting!” the Servant scent cast strongly. “But our beams do not harm!”

Seven looked to the imager that showed the circle of world four. They were not far from its upper air zone. If they were to attack, now was the moment.

“Stinger Servant, fire a swarm of particle disruption seeds! Fire our Storm Bringer globes! Some will surely get through!”

♦   ♦   ♦

Hunter One felt no pleasure at the death of the Soft Skin flying nest. His Swarm had lost one of their own nests. Other nests were being badly damaged by the concentrated beams of the disgusting Soft Skins. While one Soft Skin nest pursued after Seven’s nest, two other nests now flew off and out of range of his stingers. That left him with four nests against five Soft Skin nests. And those nests were coming directly at his dispersed nests, matching their ring to his ring.

“Alarm!” scent cast the male Servant who monitored external radiations. “Black beam particles are impacting on us! Two of our outer tool groups are dead.”

“Our hard shell!” yelled One in a harsh flow of pheromones. “Is it intact?”

“It is,” the Servant replied. “But the place where the heavy sky light beams cut deep into us is now being struck again by sky light beams. The outer hard shell piece we put in place is now gone!”

He could not allow his nest to lose its forward energy node. That would disable the Pull Down device. Hunter One looked again at the image of the Soft Skin nests. All five were concentrating their sky light beams on his nest. So. Leader against leader. He wished to kill whomever led the Soft Skins on the largest nest. But he had a duty which all Hunters had to first obey.

“Flight Servant, swing up!” he scent cast in a mix of alarm, signal and anger pheromones. “Take us away from this world! Move us to the outer magnetic boundary. We must return to Nest and advise other Hunters and Matrons of the existence of this new colony world!”

“Swinging up,” scent cast the Servant.

He looked to another Swarmer. “Speaker To All, toss scent to the three nests flying with us that they are to join our journey outward. Tell them we will head first for Warmth to avoid giving the Soft Skins any scent of the direction to our home of Nest. Speak now!”

“Sending your scent outward,” the Servant replied.

“We are moving to the edge of the range at which we can bite,” called the Stinger Servant.

One ignored the obvious. There was one more task to accomplish before they took flight for Warmth, the presence of other Swarmers and the welcome they would receive on Nest, once he brought forth the news of a new colony world. Their loss of a six-group of nests plus one would be nothing when the colony news spread through Nest.

“Speaker To All, link my scent to that of Support Hunter Seven.”

“Scent linked,” the Servant said in a strong signal pheromone.

On a side imager there appeared the black and red striped head of Hunter Seven. He who had thought to challenge his leadership of the colonizing Swarm. The young male had one last duty to perform. Perhaps he would survive it.

“Support Hunter Seven, have you attacked the Soft Skin colony world?”

“I have,” he replied in a mix of signal, trail and frustration pheromones. “A Soft Skin pursues us. It has killed one of our propulsive units.”

Even better. “Then you cannot follow us out to the magnetic boundary as we head for Warmth, to later share the news of the new colony world with other Swarmers on Nest.” Seven’s five black eyes glistened in the white-yellow light of his Flight Chamber. “Take yourself and your nest out to the far reaches of this world assemblage. Hide among the balls of ice. Keep watch on what the Soft Skins do here, after we leave. We will return with many more nests to claim world three for our people!”

The black antennae of Seven drooped. It was clear he understood he was a sacrifice to be made in order to distract the Soft Skins from following One’s nest group.

“This nest moves outward,” Seven said in a mix of primer, releaser and trail pheromones. There was no scent of aggregation in his reply. “My Servants, my Workers, my Fighters and my Matron will keep a high flight watch on the Soft Skins. Signal us when you return.”

“I am a Hunter. You have my cohort promise that you will be signaled upon our return here to claim world three for the Swarm!”

“My wings grow tired. Until you return.”

Seven’s image vanished. On the imager that showed the nests of his people and of the Soft Skins, the nest of Seven now curved downward, in the opposite direction from the flight path One now followed with his three Support Hunters. As a Hunter, he felt pride that another Hunter now chose to lead the Soft Skin pests away from the other nests of the Swarm. Of course, every Swarmer nest had stingers in its tail, just like every living Swarmer. Surely Seven would fire on any pursuer. He might even survive to find refuge among the ice balls that flew about the outer edge of this world group.

“Propulsive Servant, move our wing speed to maximum. Let us leave this pest-filled place.”

“Moving us to maximum wing speed,” the Servant replied.

One settled down on his bench and contemplated just how he would present the fact of the loss of another flying nest to the Swarmers now working to colonize Warmth. They would be a practice audience. When he and his three allied nests then flew to Nest, he would have the perfect scent and pheromone flow to make clear what had happened with the Soft Skins was not a defeat, but a fortunate discovery of a new colony world.

♦   ♦   ♦

“Captain! The wasps are fleeing!” cried Daisy.

Jacob saw that incredible news in his situational holo. The giant wasp ship and its three allies were swinging up and away from the planetary ecliptic, clearly heading for the magnetosphere boundary. The wasp exit speed was now one percent of lightspeed and rapidly increasing. What was even more positive was the movement of the solo wasp ship that had launched nuke warheads at Valhalla. It was diving down, below the ecliptic, similarly aiming for the boundary.

“Tactical, what of the warheads launched by the wasp ship?” he called to Rosemary. “Are any entering the atmosphere?”

“A few are,” she said. “Captain Jefferson’s sharpshooters killed 31 with her proton laser. The proton lasers on the Star Navy base took out 14 more. Five are now entering the atmosphere. Two are going down faster, while three seem to be globular in shape. They are trailing behind the group of two.”

Anger and frustration filled him. “What will they hit? Any sign they are guided?”

“No, they are not showing guidance ability,” Rosemary replied, her voice catching. “They appear to be in freefall reentry mode. The two falling faster will hit the dense forest on the northern continent. The three falling slower will hit close to Stockholm.” She looked back to him, her green eyes looking wet. “Does anyone on Valhalla have a fighter jet? A ground laser? Smart missiles?”

He didn’t know. But someone else did know. “Andrew, link me up with O’Sullivan at the base. Quickly!”

“Sending a neutrino signal,” the man replied swiftly.

“Fleet captain!” called Joy Jefferson from her image icon at the top of the wallscreen. “We’re diving down after those warheads! We’ll do our best to kill them!”

“Acknowledged!” he said quickly. “Do your best.” Jacob wished he and the other ships were closer but they were on an outward track toward the local moon. The planet lay behind them.

“Captain?” called O’Sullivan. “Our moving neutrino tracker shows the wasp ships are going away. What’s happening?”

He told the man about the five incoming warheads.

“Damn! I thought our proton lasers killed the last stragglers,” he said. He lifted his helmeted head and fixed on Jacob. “We have no ground weaponry of any sort. No smart missiles. No lasers. Earth Command thought outfitting this base with six proton lasers would suffice for incoming asteroids, comets or a pirate raider.”

“We got one!” cried Jefferson. “One of the heavies is dead.”

O’Sullivan heard that. Jacob looked to Rosemary. “Tactical, what about the one heavy and the three lighter ones. Have they impacted?”

She shook her head, then spoke over her helmet comlink. “Not yet. The heavy will hit in four seconds. The three lighter ones in 30. The lighter ones will strike the western outskirts of Stockholm. Homes and businesses are there, from what I can see in our scope.”

He looked up at the wallscreen. The ship’s electro-optical scope was tightly focused on the part of Valhalla that was the warhead target. Green forest filled the top half of the image, with a grassy plain on the lower left and the silver sparkle of buildings and housing and factories over by the eastern seacoast.

A yellow flame blossomed among the trees.

“Anyone in the strike zone?”

“No, captain,” Oliver said. “Warhead yield is atomic, about 50 kilotons. Thank God it was not a thermonuke!”

Jacob knew that. Still, the fallout rain from a 50 kiloton atomic blast would spread over dozens of miles of forest. But it would not reach any of the villages that lay west and south of Stockholm.

Three yellow lights that resembled lightning bolts now spread over the western edge of Stockholm. Black clouds formed.

“Those were plasma lightning globes!” Oliver yelled.

Jacob gave brief thanks to the Goddess that they had not been atomics. If they had, half of Stockholm would have been vaporized. As it was, a few city blocks were likely molten soil, with everyone in those blocks gone up into vapor. Hopefully most city residents were hiding in bunkers or out in the countryside, thanks to his earlier warning.

O’Sullivan looked down at a display in the com room, then up. His face was stricken. “Word from Stockholm landing pad. Their western Salonika neighborhood was hit. Three city blocks gone, in a spread out footprint. Storms are forming above the city. Their responders are heading out to help survivors.”

Jacob slumped in his seat. Seventy-one ghosts from the
Marianas
now joined the ghosts from the
Britain
and the several hundred people who had died in the lightning plasma strikes. Telling himself that most of Valhalla was untouched and that most colonists were alive and healthy did nothing for him.